


a little far gone

by redluxite (wordstruck)



Series: VLD One-Shots [8]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - College/University, Fluff and Humor, Happy Birthday Shiro (Voltron), M/M, Pining Shiro (Voltron), pining!Shiro
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-28
Updated: 2018-02-28
Packaged: 2019-03-23 13:06:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,901
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13788369
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wordstruck/pseuds/redluxite
Summary: Keith walks in at the usual time in the morning. Matt simply turns to Shiro and says, “switch with me”, before abruptly hauling his friend to stand in front of the register before Shiro can even ask why.He then proceeds to make the most complicated coffee order he can imagine, for no one in particular.Shiro has no idea what is going on until he turns to the counter and spots Keith on the other side.Or, Matt and Shiro part-time as baristas at the campus coffee shop, and Shiro thinks Keith is cute.





	a little far gone

**Author's Note:**

> There are entirely too many coffee shop AUs and yet here we are. Based off [a Twitter thread](https://twitter.com/okw_tr/status/943107833712689152) I had (which was a revision of an earlier Twitter thread, but for a different pairing). Also, Shiro's usually not the barista when I see this AU around. so 8)
> 
> PS. Keith's unfortunate answer is based on a real-life experience, and this is why I haven't returned to the Starbucks near my university in years.
> 
> Happy Birthday, Shiro!! ❤︎❤︎❤︎ You deserve all good things, and that includes endearingly flustered Keith. Dw, we all know he falls in love with you in every alternate universe. ^_^

* * *

 

 

Working at the on-campus coffee shop comes with quite a few perks.

Sure, Shiro has to wake up at the ass crack of the morning to open shop and take stock for the day, and sure it’s not the best-paying job he could take (it’s no small change either, though). But the owner, Allura, lets her employees have free drinks even off their shift, and Shiro gets free breakfast too. It’s a nice place, cozy and well-lit -- a far cry from the stuffy offices and reading rooms Shiro would be stuck in had he decided to be an RA or TA instead.

The coffee’s great, too.

Shiro’s shift partner, Matt, is a third-year aeronautical engineering student and a goofy nerd. He’d been a little alarmed by Matt’s volume setting and cavalier disregard for personal space at first, but Matt’s since learned to tone it down and Shiro’s learned to actually like Matt’s mile-a-minute brand of talking.

Plus, it’s hilarious watching Matt shuffle into the shop at 5:30am with bird’s nest bedhead and his eyes half-shut. He squints, grumbles, and makes a beeline for the espresso machine while Shiro sets up tables and turns on the lights.

“Good morning,” he snickers, watching Matt press his forehead to the display cabinet as he waits for the coffee to brew.

“Hrmmph,” Matt replies, eloquently.

Free coffee in the morning is probably the only reason Matt’s agreed to the first shift, truth be told.

Half an hour later and Matt is finally a person again, supervising the food delivery while Shiro checks their equipment. By 6:30am, Café Altea is ready to open and welcome the first wave of cranky, tired university students in desperate need of caffeine before classes start.

Which brings up Shiro’s last reason for loving his job so much.

 

There are four things Shiro knows about this boy, and he treasures them like they’re his last ten dollars:

One, his name is Keith.

Two, he’s also in the engineering department -- a freshman in the same program as Matt.

Three, Matt says Keith is a prodigy, has the entire engineering faculty raving about his potential. Says even his father, Professor Holt, is impressed. There’s talk of putting him on the track for the Garrison space program.

Four, Keith always orders the same coffee -- a medium-size caramel macchiato, upside-down, extra syrup, on ice.

(Neither Matt nor Shiro have had the heart to inform Keith that he’s basically drinking an iced latte with caramel syrup drizzled all over, because the _point_ of a macchiato is -- well. Whatever makes the guy happy.)

Matt also says Keith is disagreeable as hell and prefers not to be sociable. This, Shiro does not consider entirely factual, because Keith’s never been disagreeable with him.

He’s aware he’s being completely biased because he has the worst crush on Keith. And that Keith is possibly only being pleasant to them because they’re his source of caffeine in the morning. Still, he’d like to give Keith the benefit of the doubt.

And speak of the devil, Keith walks in a little past 7.00am, hair a little unruly and red sweater slightly rumpled.

As Shiro has done since he’d realized Keith made his heart stutter in his chest, he grabs Matt, hauls him to stand at the register, and pretends to be very focused on making a cappuccino.

Matt chucks a spoon at him. Shiro allows it as penance and goes to get the 2% milk.

“Good morning,” Matt says amicably, as if he doesn’t know that the source of Shiro’s lovestruck frustrations is standing on the other side of the counter, squinting at the pastry selection.

“Morning,” Keith mumbles through a yawn. Shiro doesn’t have to look up to know what Keith looks like -- the small, crooked half-smile; the slow little blinks; the slight crinkle of his nose. He’s committed that vision to memory. It helps him sleep.

“Rough night?” Matt asks as he rings up the order.

“Iverson’s exam is Friday,” Keith mutters darkly, and Matt winces in sympathy.

“Good luck,” he says, sincerely, and Keith actually half-laughs.

(Shiro would like to take that sound and bottle it and listen to it for the rest of his life.)

“I’ll need it,” Keith answers, and then he goes to sit at a table and wait for his order.

Matt doesn’t even have to turn and say anything -- Shiro already has the cup ready, the ham and cheese Danish on a plate and halfway to the microwave. There’s a tiny smile on his face and his cheeks are a little pink.

It is, for Matt, simultaneously a little pathetic and a little infuriating.

“Would it kill you to stand there and take his order,” he says, but it’s a rhetorical question.

“Yes,” Shiro answers anyway. He places the plated food and the coffee on a tray, and holds it out to Matt with this openly _earnest_ and pleading look on his face.

One day, Matt will be immune to Distressed Shiro.

“Why are you like this,” he mutters, and takes the tray so he can bring it to Keith.

Shiro watches from behind the espresso machine as Keith receives his order with a tired smile, table already half-covered in papers. As he does almost everyday (except Wednesdays), Keith will stay there and finish his coffee while he studies and works through problem sets. Occasionally, he’ll pop by the counter for help, if Matt isn’t doing anything.

He could technically ask Shiro, because Shiro is taking applied physics (with materials science and engineering, to be precise) and has a lot of common core classes with the aeronautical engineering program. But Shiro has somehow managed to make himself appear busy at all possible times, while simultaneously being able to watch Keith work. He considers it an art and has mastered it to a tee.

Keith gets up to leave at a little past 9:30 to head to class. On the way out, he stops by the counter to get another coffee, this time for takeaway. Shiro decides now is a very good time to rearrange the pastry display.

Matt steps on Shiro’s foot on the way to give Keith his drink.

“See you in the lab,” Keith says, taking his coffee.

“Looking forward to it,” Matt answers, waving as he heads back to the counter.

A moment passes.

“Bye, Shiro,” Keith adds, with a small smile. He raises his coffee in a little salute.

Shiro straightens up so fast he almost hits his head on the top of the display case. (And behind him, he can hear Matt smothering the most ungraceful snort.)

“Yeah, uh.” Shiro frantically tries to remember how to string two words together in English. “Bye.”

(He doesn’t spend the next few moments watching Keith leave. He has self-control.)

 

As they sign off their shift, Matt gives Shiro a pointed look and a sigh.

“You know,” he says, with the air of a very tired kindergarten teacher who is explaining to her student that two _plus_ two and two _times_ two are _the same._ “You could just _talk_ to him.”

Shiro flinches, horrified. _“Matt,”_ and his hands make vague, flapping gestures. He opens his mouth, closes it, tries to articulate how much he can’t. He settles for, _“no.”_

Matt blinks at him for a long moment. He’s seen Shiro defend a research paper in front of a panel that included Iverson, Montgomery, and Kolivan without batting an eye, but put him in front of Keith and Shiro just… melts.

It would be endearing if Matt hadn’t been suffering for seven weeks now, and if he didn’t have to endure the consequences of Shiro’s apparent inability to tell Keith hello.

“You are an idiot,” he finally pronounces, and goes to get his stuff.

Shiro can’t disagree.

 

By the next week, however, Matt has _had it._

He comes to a decision that drastic measures are necessary, or Shiro is going to spend the rest of the semester pining from behind the espresso machines and Matt is going to go bald.

His plan of action is simple.

Keith walks in at the usual time in the morning. Matt simply turns to Shiro and says, “switch with me”, before abruptly hauling his friend to stand in front of the register before Shiro can even ask why.

He then proceeds to make the most complicated coffee order he can imagine, for no one in particular.

Shiro has no idea what is going on until he turns to the counter and spots Keith on the other side.

“Fucking hell,” he says, out loud, because his brain-to-mouth filter has shut down.

There is a pregnant pause. The ground does not mercifully swallow Shiro alive.

“...good morning,” Keith replies, bemused.

Shiro collects the tatters of his dignity and takes Keith’s order (never mind that he has it memorized). He decides he’s doing pretty well up until he asks for the name to put on the cup, as is their protocol.

Keith is still peering distractedly at the selection of food when he answers. “Shiro.”

There is a second, longer pause. Keith looks up, mortified.

 _“Keith,”_ he amends, eyes wide and cheeks going pink. “Shit, I meant -- Keith, for the cup. My name. Shit, sorry.”

In his peripheral vision, Shiro can see Matt trying extremely hard to contain himself. They have a short, telepathic conversation, in which Shiro thinks very hard _I thought we were friends!!!_ and Matt radiates back, with zero sympathy and a shit-eating grin, _good luck!!!_

And then, because Matt clearly wishes for Shiro’s death, he chimes in as he brings over Keith’s coffee. “Nice mix-up.”

“I will drown you in half-and-half milk,” Shiro says, between gritted teeth.

“I am so sorry,” Keith repeats.

“No, he doesn’t mind,” Matt points out airily. “In fact, he’d probably w--”

Shiro smashes the order pad into Matt’s face without looking. “Please ignore my co-worker,” he says, with the most pleasant smile he can muster. “Did you want the sandwich for here?”

(It’s Wednesday. He doesn’t. Shiro can pretend not to know this.)

Keith returns the smile, and for a moment Shiro is hopeful that this entire interaction has been salvaged. “Oh no thanks, I have to gay.”

Shiro briefly short-circuits. Matt makes a noise like a strangled cat. Keith goes very, very red.

“I mean I have to _go,_ I have to -- I’ll have it to go, oh my god.” Keith plasters his hands over his mouth and looks away in absolute ignominy. Shiro wonders if perhaps this is all an extremely bad dream.

Matt has given up all pretense and has just slumped against the counter, gasping for breath and laughing so hard he’s ceased making noise.

Keith collects his coffee and his dignity, and leaves without getting his change, his food, or his receipt.

Distantly, Shiro thinks, _if you don’t get a receipt your coffee is free._ But given that his soul has currently departed his body, he simply stands there and wonders what he’d ever done to deserve this.

Beside him, Matt has finally managed to stand up, and is attempting to compose himself, with much difficulty.

Speech finally returns to Shiro, and he turns to his friend. “Did that just… happen.”

Matt looks entirely too pleased with himself. “I think he likes you.”

Shiro is going to throttle Matt with his apron.

 

( _After_ he finds out if Matt is right, that is.)

 

(He is.)

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading this short, silly fic! I wish I had more to offer for Shiro's birthday but life 8) I'll make it up to him by writing more stories where he's happy with his beloved Keithycat.
> 
> Come find me on social media!! I'm on Twitter as [@okw_tr](https://twitter.com/okw_tr) and Tumblr as [okwtr](https://okwtr.tumblr.com). Check over there for more of my art/writing (and if you wanna support it!!) ❤︎


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